


Matcha

by liuyongen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chocolates, Food, Kit-Kat, M/M, Victor-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liuyongen/pseuds/liuyongen
Summary: A look into Victor's Kit-Kat phase.





	

It starts at a duty-free the moment he touches down in Fukuoka Airport.

Victor stands out like how he usually does with the silver hair and the broad shoulders. The fact that he's wearing sunglasses indoors doesn't help either but the white fluorescent light is _everywhere_ and it hurts. Plus, he feels the different judgy pinpricks of everyone's eyes on him and the tingle crawls up his spine like they do during acupuncture sessions.

The thing is, he knows exactly why he's here–he's slept with it through the nights before, repeated it ten times over to Makkachin, wrote it down on a nice post-it note and pinned it to his moodboard–not only does he get a hundred messages at once on a daily basis (on every social media platform, some he doesn't even remember having) to watch a video that just popped out of nowhere but he gets the aftermath of it too.

It makes him feel something new and something he _knows_ he's missing.

That being said, those needles don't feel too bad because he is very assured that answering the call of love is worth a few looks.

He should get Yuuri a gift–many gifts in fact–because that is what you do for the man who has every warm tone of earth in his eyes (he is very pretentious when it comes to Yuuri Katsuki) and skates like it's the only language he knows while Victor is the only other person who could understand it. Another way for him to say the 'I love you' he so desperately wants to just scream, even flew two thousand miles for it.

Gifts like Swarovski crystals and Pandora gems in every colour of the rainbow.

_(And different lubes that warm up when you rub them on.)_

_(And a whole chest of blue roses with long-lasting scents that he can get shipped right to Yuuri's doorstep.)_

But if he isn't in to that then Victor would personally weld his five gold medals into something a lot less shiny (but still very shiny indeed.)

Too bad this airport only offers designer perfume. They have the same in-store prices but he still believes they are somewhat cheaper.

And chocolates. Lots and lots of chocolates.

It's not that bad of an idea so Victor walks up to the brightly coloured aisle and almost goes into cardiac arrest at the assortments lined from one wooden shelf to another. It looks like a collection of very precious unicorn vomit. And that excites him. He isn't able to read the kanji on the little rectangle boxes, there is also on average a million different kinds to choose from and he's already trying to find a favourite.

He loves Japan already.

Studying it a little closer, he notices the red logo that isn't hard to miss and he starts to hop in place at the rush that rubs the jet-lag off his entire face because he doesn't remember the last time he's had chocolate of any kind let alone chocolate that tastes like–the designs on the boxes gives it away–red bean paste or baked potato.

Back in Russia, chocolates are passed around like contraband. They are treated like weapons and kidneys among their little black market of an ice skating team, especially during the competitive season. He's been bribing Georgi with his favourite white chocolate Lindors ever since he found out he actually could that one night they were locked in.

Snow is harsh, it never stops for anyone or anything, not even the living legend himself. It builds and builds to the point it weighs down on the doors and freezes the hinges. Usually, if they didn't manage to leave early, they get locked in. Everyone has their own different idea of fun (surviving the night) and Yakov reaches into his coat pocket for more Advil the moment he finds the vellum labels of Hershey's Kisses lining the rink the next morning.

This is always followed by every single one of them spending extra time wallowing in how they have terrible willpower in resisting such delicious atrocities.

When he reaches Yutopia, he's already fed up with how his dramatic, 'fullproof', plan goes down the drain (so much for first impressions.) He lets that green canvas-ish robe slide over his body and tries Katsudon for the first time. That first bite of pork speaks to his soul and wraps him tightly in a warm embrace that carbohydrates and balanced doses of vitamins never gave.

Taking it a step further, he rummages through the plastic bag he's been holding on to feverishly the entire train ride and grabs the first thing he sees. He tears along the scored zig-zag line on the cardboard package with a picture of bubbly Matcha on it and pulls out two nicely wrapped chocolate wafers. Ripping a seam from the corner, it does look like what a Kit-Kat should look like, but–

It's green. Just like the robe he's wearing.

Victor takes a bite right after he breaks them into two separate pieces and tastes something that is definitely not chocolate. Not even close. He tastes the smokiness of tea leaves and how something thick turns milky after the second and third chew is beyond his expectations.

The beginning sounds of _'Vkusno!'_ fall on the tip of his tongue and they burst out in exclamation. He offers the other piece to the wide-eyed Japanese sitting across from him–who is in a daze the entire time this plays out–this was after all supposed to be his gift.

In his head, he imagines Yuuri reaching forward to bite into it, his lips parting almost too slowly, the sight of pearly teeth digging into that hard biscuit and watching it break sends a shock wave up his spine and Victor has to suck in a breath. He doesn't even know why. All while Yuuri never looks away and neither does Victor.

But Yuuri is kind when he rejects the single wafer in between his fingers. He nods along and smiles so he doesn't seem too harsh and Victor doesn't think too much about it because rejection like this is normal, it happens all the time, no big deal. So he smiles back and finishes whatever is left.

When it gets late, Victor offers to sleep in the same room as Yuuri and he earns another rejection, this time he can't help but think about it the whole night.

Yurio shows up a few days after 'green tea' and word on the street is Victor measures everything in Kit-Kat flavours now. He raids the convenience stores of their stock as he doesn't bother looking and _mauls_ every single one. Making them fall off the shelves and into his basket in an avalanche, one toppling over the other.

The flavours don't matter when he's picking them out because he loves the kinds he has tried so far but he is especially fond of 'blueberry cheesecake' now.

The tanginess of cream cheese with specks of blueberry is already too pretty to eat, what surprises him the most is how it is _exactly_ like what blueberry cheesecake tastes like. He is continuously in a state of wonderment at the advancement of food technology. And Japanese Kit-Kats.

Yurio eyes him from head to toe, and Victor knows he's just waiting for the moment to say something off putting before he stops the blonde's train of thought with a gesture towards the blue box sitting on the edge of the rink.

"Try one." Victor says kindly–in a voice that holds no particular tone but the act still throws Yurio off–then skates off looking for a familiar someone with blue-framed glasses.

Yurio's eyebrows furrow involuntarily, he isn't used to eating sweets being more of a potato chip guy himself. Sure he's taken part in their chocolate smuggling shenanigans back home but this is different. This is not behind backs or closed doors. This is not rebellion or a cheeky once in awhile thing. This is Victor Nikiforov eating lavishly like he's never done before, like he fully deserves to.

As if Victor was on another one of his schemes. Setting him up on another quest to find unconditional love or any of that agape nonsense. So it puts him on _edge_.

Reluctantly, he does the usual ripping of metallic plastic then to the breaking of the pair, cursing at how when he adds more pressure on one and it breaks in half again, leaving crumbs all over his sleeve. He almost wants to forget about this whole thing because it's just annoying and he could have just not listen to Victor and take up his new stupid Kit-Kat fad.

That is until he tries it.

Chocolate tastes so much better when it doesn't involve him shoving it down his throat before Yakov finds out. It gives him time to appreciate it for once, especially since he realises that it tastes like an entirely different thing. You get one for the price of another.

Yurio then leaves Hasetsu with a tiger-print sweatshirt, Yuko Nishigori's undying support, and a luggage bag filled to the brim with 'blueberry cheesecake' flavoured Kit-Kats.

After he's done obsessing over 'purple yam' and 'royal milk tea', it has yet to occur to Victor that you can do much more than just _eat_ Kit-Kats. On a Sunday afternoon when the rest of Hasetsu sleeps, Ice Castle doesn't open and the only time they do is when Yuuri or Victor decide they wouldn't mind an extra day of practice. Yuko even gave them a spare key with personalised keychains on them. But that doesn't matter right now because skating is all they ever do since he arrived (besides the increase of chocolate consumption in his daily schedule) and it crosses his mind to do anything but skate today. Instead, he watches Hiroko cook.

The breaded pork cutlet covered in eggwash and flour is slowly laid on the pan and he gets used to the crackling sound it makes when the oil meets moisture. How it smells, only Yuuri would be able to explain in full detail, but it fills the air in the kitchen leading to the hall and even out to the hot springs.

Hiroko silently moves around in tune and in sync with the natural sounds of hot oil and the staccato of knife hitting chopping board when she dices spring onions. Victor watches intently as he grabs a new box of Kit-Kat, it's cream coloured this time, and there are symbols with temperatures and warnings on the back, very fitting for only this moment.

It's anti-climatic at most, what he gets is just sugar and more sugar. There is a hint of milk somewhere and some cream but nothing more. This one doesn't do the gorgeous shiny bag and it's array of symbols any justice.

He pouts at his discovery, never would the day arrive where he hates a part of something as amazing as Japanese Kit-Kat. But it's happening. Right now. Victor really doesn't want to eat the other one because of this, he feels betrayed apparently, but wasting food isn't his forte and Yuuri isn't around to eat the other piece...

He gives it to Hiroko in the end and she thanks him. It makes him hate it less.

She doesn't eat it right away though, leaving it on a tray instead before she goes back to cooking. "Do you not like sweets, Hiroko?" Victor asks finally after a beat or two when she lifts the cover off the fresh, steamed rice. The haze of heat fogs up her glasses before dissipating and she smiles fondly at Victor, the sides of her eyes crinkling, like how a mother does. Not only is she older but she gave birth and raised the man of his dreams, the love of his life- _Yuuri Katsuki._

 _Of cours_ e she was going to have a few secrets up her rolled up sleeves. _Of course_ she knew something he didn't.

"Let me show you something." She says it in the most endearing way she can. Pushing the loose sleeves of her robe up to her elbows, a determined look grows on her face. Yuuri has the same spark on ice, where his confidence grows and seeps out of every pore on his skin, unbeknown to Victor, including the rest of the world.

Hiroko moves the tray with the single piece of mediocre flavoured Kit-Kat into their small oven that could barely fit a cake. The short bars lining the interior becomes red-hot the moment she rotates the knob and it makes clicking sounds while she does it.

So Victor waits patiently and watches her leave that Kit-Kat in the oven, he doesn't question the absurdity of _cooking_ chocolate. A thing he's never seen or heard of despite him being an adult male, because at this point there isn't really room for that but there's always space for surprise. There's so much he has to catch up on that he books and reserves a presidential suite sized area in his heart for the years of absolutely nothing but gold medals and fake smiles. He makes up for it bit by bit every time he tries a new Kit-Kat flavour or when Yuuri decides that this is a good moment to show up.

Wearing his boxers and giving everyone the sight of his absolutely  _shredded_ thighs. He rubs the sleep out his eyes with the cuffs of sweater sleeves that are too long, they end right on top his knuckles. His hair sticks up in random directions and the world's biggest cowlick sits at the back of his bedhead. Victor records this and sears it to the back of his eyelids just as the resounding 'ding' from the oven plays.

Victor has never really had moments where he got to lick the batter off of wooden spoons and had a dying urge to not wait for cookies to cool before digging in. He doesn't know how it's like to be so tempted by the smell of vanilla extract when it's sizzling inside pastries. And when Hiroko clasps her hands in elation at her handiwork, pulls out the tray and coming face-to-face with a whole new kind of Kit-Kat with a darkened, slightly roasted, edge to it, Victor has stars in his eyes, marvels at it like a child seeing magic for the first time.

Yuuri stalks forward and picks up the wafer carefully, not wanting to burn those sweater-covered fingers. Blowing on it softly with those pursed lips, Victor gets distracted. Even more so when he bites just the smallest corner off and chews it. A flush creeps up his cheeks probably from how good it tastes, Victor doesn't know until Yuuri brings it towards him and raises his eyebrows in lieu of verbally asking him if he wanted some.

If a bus were to crash into him right now and break both his legs so he would be unable to skate forever, he wouldn't move an inch if it meant that all he had to do was part his lips and boom, just like that, he's indirectly kissed this sleepy, seductive, effortlessly charming, guy in front of him. Which is exactly what he does and _gosh_ , he just loves every second of whatever is happening. Caramelised sugar that is _not_ the same as the regular kind meets his palate and knowing it's what Yuuri tastes as well, makes it all the more amazing.

He swears that it is such a contrast to the 'green tea' night, where he finds out how much more there is to chocolates than just smuggling them and where Yuuri denies the offer just to be polite or because he feels too reserved, whatever it is, nothing beats a comfortable Yuuri who shares food with him and Hiroko's way of being so, so, maternal. Plus, she has a tendency to make really beautiful things.

'Bakeable custard' isn't that anti-climactic or mediocre after all. Especially not when he tastes the sweet remains off Yuuri's lips in the privacy of an empty kitchen. The presidential suite of his heart is _full_.

Yuuri believes that he is far beyond any level of surprise by the time he wins silver at the Grand Prix and he packs that belief together with his old pictures from the inn and his old uni sweater from Detroit in a box and ships them off to St. Petersburg. And when he arrives he doesn't feel anything but nostalgia when he reopens them, and starts lining Victor's apartment with more _him._

His fiance is distractedly unzipping his luggage bag the moment he unlocks the front door and Yuuri isn't as shocked with how fast Victor wants to unpack until he excitedly whispers to no one in particular "Aeroflot don't let me down." And Yuuri starts to panic.

If anything, he really hopes it's firearms or a nuclear weapon agenda (something top secret like that) because he really doesn't know what has gotten living legend, Victor Nikiforov in such a hassle.

The top gets pushed off while Victor's eyes fill with tears, his cheeks grow red and Yuuri almost feels bad before he sees the Russian let out a huge, almost, ginormous smile that makes the crimson on his cheeks glow brighter and he's pulling out a paperbag from the mass of clothes he doesn't fold. ("They're going back into the laundry anyway." He reasons.)

Yuuri knows that bag, he's seen it too many times in his life and it even becomes a staple in his photographic memory.

"I bought them before we left-" Victor says as he grabs the kraft paper by the edges and flips it over, out comes an arsenal of pastel colours and red logos on top of one another.

Yuuri blinks once. Twice. He has too many questions, but he knows he is going to have to rethink his ideals if he thinks Victor Nikiforov was incapable of surprising him again. "-There's a limited edition Mount Fuji kind, and it's blueberry cheesecake!"

Victor can hardly pull himself together before he's lifting up another box from the pile, "And this one is apple flavoured!" indeed, it was, if the fruits that decorated the side of the box with the golden embossed _'Shinsu Limited'_ label didn't give that one away, Victor's overall excitement certainly did.

"What's that one?" Yuuri points towards a tall box lined with cherry blossoms. Victor turns around and grabs at it as quick as possible without moving from his position on the floor. He shoves it in Yuuri's face a little too closely, "This one tastes like Sake, isn't that great?" his eyes glaze over with something so fond and pure and Yuuri does the same in reply.

"I never knew-" Victor says suddenly, his face twisted in confusion. "Never knew what?" Yuuri asks.

"What your favourite flavour is." It's serious to Victor because he is genuinely curious, but he really hopes that Yuuri doesn't tell him that his favourite was 'vegetable juice.' Or even worse- _'European cheese.'_

Yuuri wants to laugh, "I like the normal ones, just the chocolate and nothing else."

Two hundred flavours and counting, the weighing scale tips forward just a little bit too much when Victor gets on it and Yakov sheds whatever is left of his hair during that one hour in medical. Guilt is not present anywhere in Victor's set of expressions that day but he does feel mournful at the need to let go.

Yuuri finds it just as sad because what's more adorable than an excited Victor. He decides it was time for an intervention sooner or later so he opens up the last flavour. He doesn't a seam down a plastic package, but he unfolds the familiar aluminium layer from the snack instead and they both light up when for once, it isn't any colour other than the brown, milk chocolate, that gets revealed.

Victor ends his Kit-Kat phase that night with 'Original' or even better,  _'Yuuri's favourite.'_

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on a post by @kixboxer on tumblr and Kit-Kats are my favourite kind of chocolate.


End file.
